


Sharp Objects

by KindleKane88



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Derek Has Feelings, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mates, One-Sided Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Slow Build, Soulmates, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindleKane88/pseuds/KindleKane88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale never believed he would find his mate, the one person out there who had been been created to be his perfect match. But there was no denying what the scent of Parrish was doing to his head. It was the scent of home, of family. Familiar, like something he’d known before...but different. Richer. Sweeter. Deeper than he remembered. </p><p>xx </p><p>Derek narrowed his eyes, his chest aching as he prepared to say the words he knew were going to change his entire life. It was insanity. Madness. The action of a fool. And yet, he didn’t have any other choice. He never had.</p><p>“Until this is over,” he growled, “Parrish is mine.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharp Objects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radlilim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radlilim/gifts).



> A/n: I wrote this as a gift for Teen Wolf’s Fall Harvest. I hope it is everything the requester wanted it to be. 
> 
> Secondly, this fic will be canon divergence. Aiden lives, Danny doesn’t disappear, Ethan stays, Isaac doesn’t take a permanent trip to France, Stiles and Malia never hook up and Jackson comes back after Allison ends up in a coma. I just don't have to the heart to kill her.

"Love takes hostages" ** _\- Neil Gaiman_**

 

XXX

 

Like everything Derek did it was a mistake. Self-destructive. Stupid. Trouble and he knew it.

When he gets back his loft, his body rigid, sweat-soaked and shaking, he tells himself, it’s only because checking out the new deputy was something his Mother would have done. Assessing a new comers risk.

 

It was only because he was thinking about her, about his family that it happens.

 

One minute he’s loitering around outside the Sheriff’s station waiting for Beacon Hill’s newest deputy to get off work (Promptly at 11pm if Stiles intel was any good.) and the next Derek catches a flash of a scent that stabbed at his insides, striking him like a physical blow. It was familiar and yet different, and he stopped in the center of the sidewalk, his narrowed eyes scanning Main Street, struggling to discern its source. He stood there gripped in a knot of panic, stunned, while his chest heaved from the force of his breaths.

 

But there was no face from his past. No big, luminous eyes blinking back at him in stunned relief. No mouth curved in a shy, soft-focused smile that all Laura.  No Cora or Peter.  No one that he could pick out in the chaotic swarm of people that nudged his memory, taking him back to a time he’d done his best to forget.

 

Blowing out a rough breath, he accepted that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, which seemed to be happening more and more these days. He thought he’d shoved that period of his life into an impenetrable mental vault, locking it away forever, but Cora coming back was screwing with his sanity, making him remember things and people, that were best left forgotten.

In his moment of distraction, the new deputy has already slipped past and headed to the parking lot.

Derek was pissed at himself for letting his imagination get the better of him.  Forcing the wave of unwanted memories from his mind, he set off again down the sidewalk, while the edgy, restless need continued to slither beneath his skin. His skin hummed with it, as it always did when he thought about his family.  It was a need to have the chance, the opportunity, to rid himself of the blackness festering within him. A toxic, destructive darkness that had formed the shape of his entire life since the age of seventeen, sculpting the years like an artist manipulating clay.

It was pointless and stupid, he knew. Regret wasn’t going to save him, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to ease the seething, visceral hunger scraping him raw, tearing at his insides like so many claws. But the two events went hand in hand, impossible to separate. Thinking of his family inevitably made him think about the things that had happened so long ago. The circumstances that had changed his life.

That had shaped him into the man he’d become.

But there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t go back and change what had come before.

Still, he lifted his nose to the air, searching for that scent again like a desperate prayer he couldn’t bring himself to utter.

“It wasn’t real,” he grunted to himself, shaking his head as if to clear it of an alcohol-induced fog.  He needed to get a grip before his useless obsession with the past made him lose his focus.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted, damn it. He needed to stay sharp. Alert. Not walking around in a daze, searching for things that weren’t even there.

But there was a buzzing in Derek’s ears as he drew in a deep breath and damn near died. There it was again. That scent. The scent of home, of family. Familiar, like something he’d known before...but different. Richer. Sweeter. Deeper than he remembered.

He looked, searching, trying to find the source, his heart hammering like a freaking drum. The evocative scent was different—deeper…earthier…and it was getting stronger.

 

As though, he was a puppet on the string, the new deputy stopped in the middle of the street and slowly turned Derek’s way.  His head cocked slightly and he blinked at Derek with a pair of luminous, green eyes. The smell coming off the deputy had Derek tied in knots, his body feeling tight and hot and swollen. It was something succulent and rich that sat on the tip of his tongue like a warm drop of honey. He wanted to roll it around for a deeper taste. Draw it into the cavern of his mouth and bite down on it. Hold it. Keep it and fight for it.

 

Harsh, lust-thick images in blazing ambers and reds flashed through his mind, revitalizing him, jamming his system, jacking him up and taking him to a bigger high than any substance he’d ever used.  He spent a while after the fire, trying to find a measure of peace but it hadn’t taken him long to learn that life held enough chaos without him screwing with it. Thanks to Kate, he knew what sin tasted like… Wicked and yet as sweet as heaven—the most dangerous kind of pleasure and the worst kind of pain imaginable.

 

The deputy took a step forward, accidently bumping into another pedestrian and something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in Derek’s gut, an uneasy trepidation, told him whatever was happening was far different than anything he was prepared for.A cold knot of fury…and something that felt strangely like pain twisted in Derek’s stomach.

So Derek did the only thing he could, he spun around and started running the second he stepped of the sidewalk…and never looked back.

XXX

 

If his was smart, he’d get his ass out of Beacon Hills and forget he ever laid eyes on Deputy Parrish.

 

Considering he wasn’t moving, Derek could only assume he wasn’t nearly as clever as he’d thought. Either that or he was thinking with the wrong head.

 

He’s been blindsided by too much…everything. Emotion. Hunger. Possessiveness. The gut-twisting need to keep Parrish safe. All of which had led to him acting like mad stalker for the past month and half.  He found himself following the deputy home from work, grocery shopping and doing laundry at the local laundry mat when Parrish did.

 

It was pathetic and Derek’s been reminding himself of that fact everyday for the past month and half and yet he couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t let him go. Couldn’t make himself turn and run, while he still had the chance. The past didn’t seem to matter. Not the lessons he’d learned or the vows he’d made to never end up in in the same situation he had been with Kate: infatuated.

 

Within moments of finding Parrish, the past eight years were obliterated, wiped clean, and Derek found himself tangled in knots. He needed to figure out what was going on, what the knot in his gut was about, but until then he’d keep waiting, watching, making sure Parrish was okay.

 

Whether the deputy wanted him or not—Parrish had him.

 

XXX

 

Derek had stood there feeling dead inside, a great roaring wave of pain ripping through his body.  It wasn’t his pain but Parrish’s, lingering from the cut by the Oni during it’s attack on the police station.

 

Derek can feel his wolf shift beneath his skin, prowling the confines of his body, desperate to break free of its human prison. He’d never been so livid before, his fury like a physical thing in his body that had substance and weight, pulsing like a toothache in his gut, pressing against his skin from the inside out. Panting, trapped between the fury of the man and the bloodthirsty hunger of his beast.

 

If anything happened to Parrish, he wasn’t going to be able to deal with it. He was willing to lay down his life to keep him safe—but what he wasn’t willing to do was lose him

 

Not now. Not ever

 

He almost made up his mind to charge into the police station himself and demand some answers when Peter shoved a cellphone in his face with a message from Stiles reading that there was no deaths at the police station and only minor wounds.

 

Derek nearly staggered with relief. He cleared his throat, trying to get past the uncomfortable lump that was nearly choking him.

 

Peter just stood in front of him and watched him for a moment longer in that intense way he had when trying to read someone, a long, critical look of assessment.

 

“I gotta admit,” Peter confessed with a low chuckle, “that I’ve always wondered what kind of person would knock you on your ass.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Derek muttered, staring at the window as if he could will Peter somewhere else preferably six feet under, “I’m glad I’ve been able to provide you with some worthy entertainment.”

 

“Just remember that payback is going to be a bitch, and now the battle lines are drawn.” From the corner of his eye, he watched Peter’s cocky smirk slip into a scowl.

 

“Meaning?”

 

“Meaning I’m no longer going out of my way to help you avoid Stiles.”

 

Peter cursed softly under his breath, marching out of the loft in all this dramatic flair.  

 

XXX

 

When Kate takes his wolf his soul howled at the loss.  For days, he sat silent, staring broodingly at the ceiling. He knew people came and went checking on him, but the faces blurred and any words of comfort were ignored.

 

He knew only blood, pain, and death he don’t why he expected anything to be any different. For so long he had been alone. A loss felt double with the death of Boyd and Erica and Isaac’s deflection to Scott’s pack. Since then, he awakened each day knowing he had no one. Had gone to sleep each night feeling the loss. He was a man alone in the world and he had thought this was the way he wanted it, until he found Parrish. Parrish gave him something to hold onto. Only to have Kate take it all away once again. It was a terrible blow to the soul he thought had withered away years ago.

Derek had never claimed any one person as essential in his life since Laura. He had grown up knowing his survival depended on having no one.

Yet Derek’s chest ached for Parrish, missing the connection. Some inborn knowledge, refused to allow him to accept the dying of the bond that existed between him and Parrish.Parrish was the breath of life. A breath he feared he couldn’t live without now.

Before he could stop it, a rumble of pure menace echoed in his chest, a growl of foreboding, a promise of  retribution.

And the hunt was on. He was going to find Kate and make her give back everything she stole from him.

XXX

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. No, absolutely no. ”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Stiles, what part of the simple word ‘no’ do you fail to comprehend?”

 

“Hmm.. “ The hyper active spaz actually pretended to ponder it for a minute clicking his fingers in a display of fake memory loss and then smacking his hand onto his thigh in triumph, “I think saying no basically just confirms you’re an assho-

 

Stiles breaks off with a soft grunt when Scott kicks not so subtly kicks him in the shin. Derek’s answering smile is all teeth.

 

Stiles’ mouth opened and then snapped shut with a scowl aimed at Scott before muttering, “Traitor”

 

“You promised to help.”  Scott said, managing to sound irritated and disappointed.

He hated that disappointment; Derek drew in a hard, deep breath.

“Fine.” Derek grunted as he frowned at Scott heavily. “Bring Parrish here.”

Derek preferred a bullet between the eyes over this.

 

XXX

 

Derek massaged the temples between his eyes. That bullet was looking better and better.

 

The man was trouble.

Derek knew it the second he set eyes on him all those months ago. And he was still trouble now.

 

The second Parrish stepped through the doorway of loft that smell of pack,of mate,-the smell of Parrish, aad hit him like a fist upside the head, rolling across his tongue like the sweetest sin, the most wicked of temptations. It was something he wanted to sink his teeth into and swallow. Something entirely his. The erotic promise of flesh that would be slippery and warm to the lap of his tongue, rich and succulent like a treasure.

A fierce, possessive wave of heat poured through his veins while his mouth watered.

Parrish just stared up at him with the biggest pair of green eyes he’d ever seen.

Waiting.

He was nervous, a soft wash of pink warmed his cheekbones and his lips parted the barest fraction. Something down low in Derek’s belly cramped in reaction. His blood went thick and caught fire, like a burning glow heating him from within. Even down deep, in those forgotten places where things always stayed cool and calm...and lifeless—where nothing and no one could touch him—he sensed an uncomfortable spark of awareness.

Oh, yeah, he was trouble, all right. Damn near give him heart failure, he learned he had been set on fire. Derek had a grim feeling he’d spend the rest of his life keeping Derek on his toes, if not running him through the emotional wringer.

Though Parrish no longer held his gaze, but Derek still felt him, like a fine tension that vibrated from his body to his own, its rhythm rapid and quivering.

“Look at his nails” Lydia demanded as she held Parrish’s hands out for Derek to take. When he didn’t move she cut a sharp look up at him, slim brows pulled together in a frown.

Peter made a rough, choking noise at his back, as Derek’s irritation escalated.

God, he was so fucked. He took a deep breath, counted to ten and grabbed Parrish’s hands in is. The world disappeared and shifted violently on its foundations. A not so small electric current seemed to move from one body to another, neither knew which, but both felt it. Immediately Derek dropped hands and moved violently away him.

His heart pounded, a thin layer of perspiration coated his body despite the cool temperature in the room. Hunger clawed its way though his system, which such a force, that if he could tear his eyes away from Parrish and look down he, expected to see bloody claw marks trailing up and down his body. His skin went hot and damp as a low unfamiliar burn began in his belly. It was the unmistakable hunger for hard, gritty, grinding sex, and yet utterly foreign from the driving need he'd known in the past.

This was more. Harder. Deeper. A sharp-edged driving need unlike anything he'd ever experienced, raging and explosive.

He didn't just want to bury himself inside Parrish- he had too.

“You're growling Derek." Peter's voice was low and lazy; sounding like this was an everyday thing.  However, Derek knew him well enough to know that Peter had picked up on the tension in the room and was carrying quite a bit of it himself.

Derek ignored him and turned to Scott “I don’t know what he is.  He’s not like us.”

Scott’s mouth compressed into a hard line “But you knew about Jackson and Kira.”

“This is a little out of my wheelhouse,” Derek grunted “did you check Argent’s beastiary?”

 

Scott opened his mouth to reply but Parrish made a soft sound of irritation and muttered, “Before we start talking about wheelhouses and bestiaries. I don’t know even know what you all are. How about we answer that question first.”

 

Derek could feel the others in the room twitch and all eyes turned to him and Scott. Derek arched an eyebrow in response and Scott nodded warily.

 

“You might want to sit.”  The Sheriff suggested, “Trust me.”

 

Aiden and Ethan were already clearing off the couch but Parrish seemed rooted to the spot.

 

“I swear it’s going to be okay,” Stiles promised in an urgent whisper. “Look around you. We have enough support in club weird it could be club normal. Peter, Derek, Lydia, and the Sheriff all rolled their eyes. Scott and Stiles shared a goofy grin. That was one friendship he would never understand.

 

Parrish just crossed his arms over his chest, as if he could shield himself but he didn’t budge. Every cell in Derek’s body ached with the need to claim, to soothe.

“Jordan.”

 

The use of his first name had him blinking with an odd look of surprise. And damn, but if he didn’t feel that strange little jolt between them again, like something electric and tangible skittering on the air. Something too intimate for comfort. Derek didn’t know why he’d used his first name, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the way it felt on his lips.

“I’m good,” Parrish answered after a moment “Let’s do this.”

Derek studied him. Studied him in the way a fighter sizes up his next opponent. He sounded so confident, but his body language told a different story. The little details he picked up on, like the way he kept licking at his lower lip, his left hand now clenching and unclenching at his side while his right held on to the edge of his shirt as if it was a lifeline, told a story of their own. White knuckles. Rigid spine. In the base of his throat, his pulse fluttered with a telltale sign of fear.

“Team Human can go first.” Stiles declared with wave of his hand, taking over.  As if there was some unspoken agreement, The Sheriff and Stiles stepped out of the circle.

“That’s all of you?” He asked, and there was no missing the hard edge of desperation in his words.  

The silence in the room was deafening and he knew everyone was thinking about Allison- the one who should’ve been there, bumping shoulders with Stiles but wasn’t.

“There is also Melissa and Chris.” The Sheriff said in a low voice, breaking the breath- filled silence.

At Parrish’s blank looked Stiles added helpfully, “Scott’s Mom and the town’s ex hunter.”

“Ex-hunter.”

“We will get back to that” Stiles said, plowing on as if he would be would lose his nerve. Jackson slides up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Time for all the Kitsunes to step out.”

Kira nods in Jordan’s direction and moves to stand by Stiles and Jackson.

“I’m a thunder Kitsune, a fox that can absorb and manipulate electricity.” 

“Should I be taking notes?” Jordan asked with a small shake of his head.

“Just listen.” Derek murmured, the tone of his voice soothing, as if gentling a cornered animal. He ignored the looks.

“Moving on” Stiles announced, “Time for the lovely Banshee to step on out and take a bow.”

Lydia followed the same path as Kyria and moved to stand next to her.

“So not psychic then.”Jordan said more to himself then anyone else.“ Banshee. A bridge between life and death, predicating it.”

Derek could feel confusion, as well as the surprise in the group that Jordan was familiar with Banshee’s.

“Irish.” Jordan said by way of explanation, a shrug of his shoulders accompanying it.

After another moment of silence Danny says, “I’ll go next. I’m Danny the Emissary” and moves to stand to Jackson. “I’m the packs magical hotline.”

“Witches are thing too.” Jordan nodded. Derek watches as Jordan takes that in and he tries to give the Sheriff a reassuring smile, but it looks strained.

“Probably, but I’m a Druid. Different strain.”

A wry sound that was too brittle to be laughter fell from Jordan’s lips. “My mistake.”

Stiles shifted nervously, “Last but not at least. It’s the werewolf roll call.”

Somehow, Parrish had managed to struggle past his shock long enough to stammer “Really Werewolves?”

Stiles continued as if he didn’t speak “Starting with our fearless leader and true Alpha.”

Scott just arched one brow, sighed, “That would be me.” stepping over wiggling his way in next to Stiles.

“His second in command: Isaac.” Isaac slinks over with a small wave.

“Now for the beta’s: Derek, Jackson, twins Aiden and Ethan, Malia, and the newly add Liam.”

A cough rings out from the staircase and Stiles jaw locked, hands fisting at his sides.  “And, that’s zombie wolf. Twice dead. Feel free to use him as a werewolf shield. We are hoping third times the charm.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Peter rasped bitterly, something dark and ugly and painful flashing through his eyes.

Scott ever so helpful asks “Any questions?”

XXX

 

“He wants to go home.” Scott protested his arm’s crossed.

 

“We just can’t let him go alone. Tonight proved that. His own co-worker tried to burn him alive.” Danny argued

Aiden nodded “He doesn’t even know what he is. He may be a cop but he can’t protect himself against a supernatural assassin.” 

“He just needs space we could take turns keeping watch.” Lydia reasoned. “Just let him go home.”

“We are all exhausted. Whose going to keep watch?” Jackson sniped.

Derek narrowed his eyes, his chest aching as he prepared to say the words he knew were going to change his entire life. It was insanity. Madness. The action of a fool. And yet, he didn’t have any other choice. He never had.

 

“I am.” The two roughly spoken words echoed through the room with the force of a cannon blast, and he instantly stilled, stiffening as all eyes turned toward him. “Until this is over,” he growled, “Parrish is mine.”

 

The unbelievable words echoed through his head. He struggled for the source of the possessive words—then realized it was hunger, urgent and sweet, spreading hypnotically through his system. A craving—a primal, instinctive need—that moved like warm, thick honey in his veins, settling deep within him like an intimate, pulsing glow of heat that he wanted to curl herself around. And it centered on Parrish, whose heart was banging out a powerful rhythm.

 

Parrish could destroy his soul, he thought, so very easily. Or he could remake his world and fill it with a light he had never imagined possible. Derek prayed for the light.

XXX

 

Just Stiles, Scott, Peter, and Kira stayed around to break the news to Parrish. Thinking friendly faces might help. 

 

It didn’t.

 

Derek watched Parrish’s mouth firm. Then his shoulders pulled back, determination showing in every rigid line of his hard, body.

“No.”

Wearing his meanest scowl, Derek held his stare, the look in his eyes purposefully hostile and fury-darkened. When Derek finally spoke, his words came in a low, silken rasp that he expected to buy results. Immediate ones.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not staying here with you” Derek tensed so quickly that Parrish’s voice faltered, and he had knew he’d struck a nerve. “With any of you.”

Derek didn’t say anything, wouldn’t say anything when he was on the edge and a breath away from losing what little control he could claw on to.

He drew in a deep, desperate breath through his nose, eager for the scent of something clean and fresh, something that could pull him out of the ugliness in his head. But the smell of the room reminded him too much of the acrid taste of fear. And there was no denying that Parrish was afraid—that terror beat through his body like a deafening, rolling wave of thunder.

“You’ve been following for me months.” The hoarse words left Parrish lips on a soft whoosh of air, barely more than a whisper—and they blindsided him with the force of a kick to the chest. Derek’s expression closed, like a veil being pulled over a window, filtering out the light.

 

Derek knew all eyes were on him.

 

Jordan just watched him with a calm intensity, waiting for him to speak. His head tilted a fraction as he studied him, eyes impossible to read.

 

His broad shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, as if they were discussing nothing more controversial than the weather, “Yes. Risk assessment.”

“You were supposed to tell me no.” He stated flatly, “Yes doesn’t make me feel better.”

 

Dark heat flared in Derek’s eyes as they narrowed, pinning Parrish in place. “I’m not interested in making you feel better. I’m interested in keeping you alive.”

 

A sharp sound of disbelief jerked from his throat. “And I’m supposed to believe that? If you determined I was a risk you probably would have killed me.”

 

“You would, if you’d just calm down for a moment and listen to what your gut is telling you. I’m not the bad guy here. I would have **_never_** hurt you. I just want to keep you safe.”

 

“Keep me safe by keeping me here?” He returned, his voice trembling. “I don’t think so.”

 

Derek sighed. “It’s safer. I’m here, Aiden and Ethan live here. I’m just trying to keep you alive, safe. I know you can feel that.”

  
Jordan shook his head, but he couldn’t deny that there was a strange truth to his roughly spoken words. His gut was telling him…something—but he refused to listen.

 

Derek stepped forward, his expression turning fierce “Damn it, don’t do this. I know you feel it, Jordan. Don’t lie about it.”

 

“You’re wrong,” Jordan whispered, even though he knew the look in his eyes betrayed him, revealing the intense, almost painful longing that he couldn’t hide…couldn’t explain or rationalize.

 

Derek took another step closer to Jordan, stopping when he saw the way his body tensed. “You can’t go off on your own,” he said quietly, his tone urgent. “Anyone with their hands on that deadpool is a threat.”

 

“I’m a solider, a trained law enforcement officer. I can protect myself.”

 

“Just listen to me. There’s something going on here…a connection between us that’s too damn complicated to explain right now. But what staying here with me. With us is in your best interest. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if it wasn’t.”

 

Leaning against the stairs, Derek heard Stiles mutter something foul under his breath. 

 

But he didn’t shift his gaze over to see what caused it because Jordan was staring at him, his gaze moving softly over Derek’s face, before settling back on his eyes. Derek felt as if Parrish could see straight into him—as if he could get into Derek’s head and witness firsthand the chaos going on inside.

 

Jordan lifted his chin and spun around, stalking back towards the balcony, slamming the sliding door on his way out.

 

Derek moved towards him but Stiles reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him back.

 

“Just give him some time, Derek. I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” he grunted, shrugging his arm free of Stiles’ grasp.

 

XXX

 

On the surface, Derek remained cool and calm, focused on watching the house to ensure Parrish stayed safe—but on the inside, he still burned with a cold, relentless fury.

 

He couldn’t believe he’d run out on him. That Stiles helped. When he discovered that he’d escaped down the fire escape, he’d taken off after him on foot, until Scott had called him and said Parrish and Stiles were back at Parrish’s and Stiles would not hesitant to use wolfsbane on anyone who tried to enter.

 

Danny had offered to keep first watch with him they’d planted themselves just within the cover of the forest and settled in for a long, cold night. Around them the wind surged, brutal and raw, while heavy storm clouds all but blanketed the glow of the moon, lending an ominous atmosphere to accompany his already crappy mood.

 

“Man, he’s good,” Danny drawled, leaning his shoulder against a nearby tree. He softly under his breath as they watched Parrish’s and Stiles silhouettes pass a window in what was probably the living room. “There they are, all snuggly and warm in the house, while we’re out here freezing our asses off.”

 

“I still can’t believe he tried to ditch me,” Derek grunted. He was pissed at him for bailing, and even more pissed at himself for ignoring his instincts when he’d allowed him to go off with Stiles. But he’d been trying not to spook Parrish, and it had turned around and bitten him on the ass. Hard.

 

“Forget ‘tried,’” Danny countered, his grin wry. “He definitely ditched you.”

 

Derek lifted his head, his straight brows pulled together in a scowl.

 

Danny just laughed into the night.

 

XXX

 

“You have a bad habit of following me, don’t you,?”

 

The corner of Derek’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. He did, however, level an intense stare at him that made Jordan’s breath catch. Derek’s smile turned smug. 

 

“Yeah, and you can thank me for it later.” He was trying to look and sound nonthreatening, but he could feel the tightening of his jaw, the flare of fury in his eyes, and the telltale pulsing of a vein in his temple.

 

“Are you holding up okay?”

 

Jordan gave a jerky nod in answer to his question and was staring at him intently again. No man or woman had ever looked at him the way Jordan did, and it hit him on a level that went beyond the physical, to something deeper, darker…more intimate.

 

“I swear you’ll be safe, Jordan” He blurted it out before he could really think about, and he winced as he rubbing at the back of his neck. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

“Safe from professional hit man maybe,” He whispered, blinking rapidly “But what about from you?”

Since he didn’t know what to say to that, he kept silent. And, Parrish kept looking at him something silent and powerful passed through his gaze; something that reverberated through Derek, touching him deep inside, where he felt it in his blood and tissues and organs, pulsing in the very core of his body.

 

He almost jumped with a start of surprise when Jordan lowered his arm and reached toward him, but he merely grabbed his hand, running his thumb across it like he had done with him the other night. Feeling disoriented and off balance from his unexpected touch, Derek eyed the powerful width of his chest beneath his v-neck shirt and fought the bizarre urge to step closer and nuzzle the strong, column of his throat with his nose. Mark him with his scent.

 

Jordan had the warmest skin he’d ever felt, as if he were burning inside with an inner fire that heated his body like a fever. Derek sighed, watching his hand, his thumb rubbing across the vein beneath his skin in a soothing gesture that struck him as breathtakingly intimate, though the touch was innocent.

 

But it didn’t feel innocent.

 

After a moment Jordan released his hand and stepped back

 

“I get off at 11pm. Stiles said you have the bestiary at your loft. Here’s the deal. I’ll let you walk with me back to your place and you let me read it.”

 

The breath Derek hadn’t even realized he’d been holding released on a low, shaky sigh, at the same time a raw, powerful rush of anticipation surged through him.

 

“Deal.”

 

There was no denying that Derek wanted him—that his body craved Parrish. But it was more than that. And the more was making him nervous as hell.

 

“You do know that this is going to be hell on me, don’t you?”

 

“What is?”

 

“Being near you.”

 

“Oh,” He breathed out softly. Derek could hear his fear in that single word, as well as caution…but there was also a touch of satisfaction, of interest.

 

That part that was going to kill him.

 

XXX

 

That’s how it starts he walks with Parrish to his loft and there along with Danny, Stiles, Scott, Kira, Peter, Isaac, Lydia, Jackson, and the twins they divide up the sections of the bestiary, pick spots to read, and read in silence only speaking to ask Jordan questions.

 

It takes awhile but slowly conversation starts to seep in. At first its only about mundane things such as pizza toppings or if anyone wants something from the kitchen.

 

Before Derek knows everyone is hanging out at his loft because they want to be there, not out of obligation or sense of pack duty or just because the twins lived upstairs.

 

Wasting weekends with movies, pizza and video games becomes a tradition.  

 

There’s pieces of everyone in the loft and sometimes they catch Derek off guard. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have pack, and a family.

 

They may not know what Parrish is but to Derek he’s a beacon.

 

Parrish brought light to his life after all.

 

XXX

 

Months before, Derek would have sworn on all that was holy that there was no one harder to get along with Stiles. Stiles drove him crazy, annoyed him, and generally kept him in a state of distress.

Surprising, Stiles turned out to be a good friend , and he’s convinced it’s because he has found someone much, much harder to get along with.

Parrish is irritating, frustrating, and driving him insane.

Derek wouldn’t survive this. He was convinced of it. He was flushed, heated, his body tingling. He hated it.

How was he supposed to maintain his control this way? Parrish tempted him beyond belief.

One minute their watching baseball, and Derek makes a joke about how intense Parrish gets when the game is on and the next everything is spiraling out of control.

Parrish’s hand stroked his jaw with a lazy motion as he stared at Derek from beneath his thick lashes, a strange, dazzling mixture of humor and lust suddenly spreading over his face.

 

“I’m intense about a lot of things.”  He sent a slow smile to keep company with the provocative words, and Derek felt that smile deep inside with a physical jolt.

 

Then Parrish reached out and covered his hand with his, curling his long fingers into Derek’s palm and rubbing his callused thumb over his knuckles.

 

Derek’s breath caught, and something inside him melted at Parrish’s touch.

 

“You’re worrying too much. And you’re staring,” Parrish said with a boyishly crooked grin, his tone deep and dark and low.

 

Derek drew in a slow, uneven breath, then another, pulling Parrish’s scent into his lungs, savoring it. He watched as Parrish’s eyes flared, his face taking on a hard, hungry cast that told him just how badly wanted to be alone with Derek.

 

The sensual line of Parrish’s mouth parted the barest fraction for the evocative rush of his breath, and his fingers squeezed Derek’s tighter, drawing his eyes.

 

“You have the most beautiful hands,” He murmured.

 

“They’re scarred and used,” Derek muttered roughly, as the sharp crest of his cheekbones flushed a dull red.

 

“That’s part of what makes them beautiful,” Parrish whispered, setting running the tip of his index finger along an angry-looking vein that had thickened, cutting a dark line beneath his skin. Parrish turned his palm over, rubbing his thumb across his lifeline, and Derek’s body vibrated with a fine tremor, the sinew and tendons in his forearm going rigid, struggling to hold himself in check.

 

Casting a quick glance from beneath his lashes, Derek glimpsed a hard expression etched with hunger, his eyes dark…almost wild, lips parted for the harsh force of his breathing. A sense of wonder spilled through Derek, like a comet rushing across the sky, vibrant and shimmering against the infinite blackness of space.

 

Parrish started to say something, but whatever he would have said was drowned out by the ringing of Parrish’s phone, Derek’s following a second later.

Kate kidnapped Scott and Kira and was headed to Mexico.

XXX

 

Parrish’s eyes narrowed, skin tight over his cheekbones. “If you go Derek we both know your not coming back. Not alive.”

“I may be human but I’m not useless in a fight. I will be back.”

“Bullshit.”

 

Derek blinked. “Excuse me?”

 

He stared at Derek with a heavy-lidded gaze, then slowly nodded his head, as if coming to some sort of realization. “You heard me,” Parrish said, the words soft.

 

“I have to go” Derek’s voice was low, rough, stripped down to raw emotion. “There isn’t any other way.”

 

A bitter sound jerked past Jordan’s lips, angry and Derek’s eyes were hot with with tears that surged up from that warm, liquid glow pouring through him, until this surroundings were nothing but a hazy, buzzing nothing. The only point of reference in the world was Parrish. His anchor. The thing he kept swimming toward, like a beacon, a light. The source of everything that could make him feel alive.

 

Derek reached out unable to help himself, he ran the back of his knuckles against the softness of Parrish’s cheek, wishing he could put Parrish at ease. Aware that he was shaking apart inside, he lifted his other hand and ran his thumbs over the corners of his trembling mouth, before cradling his throat in his palms. Slowly, giving Parrish time to tell him no, if that’s what he wanted, Derek leaned down and feathered his mouth across his.

 

And that was all it took. Parrish moaned against his lips, lifting his hands to clutch at the thickness of his wrists, and he was lost. The awareness of just how dangerous this was slammed through him, and he knew one kiss wasn’t going to be enough. He needed more. Needed all of it. All of Parrish.

 

“Jordan,” he growled, and what started out as a slow, damp slide of lips and shared, soughing breaths, sharpened instantly into something wild and explosive. His taste hit Derek’s system like a life-altering drug, making him tremor as he struggled to stay in control. With a rough sound of craving, Derek thrust his way into the moist, silk of Parrish’s mouth and tasted.

 

With the need to take him in every possible way crawling up his spine, biting at him with insistence, he claimed Parrish’s mouth with tender aggression, feasting on the succulent flavor, capturing his tongue when Parrish dipped into his, sucking on it. Raw, scraping sounds of demand vibrated in his throat, while the waves of lust battered through him like the stormy surge of the tide against the fragile shoreline of a beach, reshaping him into something unfamiliar and different.

 

No one had ever felt like this. This deliciously addictive, that he craved them with every cell of his body. As if he’d never get enough of Parrish.

 

Derek thickly, his hands still clutching at his throat, holding Parrish in a gentle trap, his body vibrating against Derek’s with a low, erotic frequency that nearly brought him to his knees.

 

Derek took one last hungry stroke at the slick, inner surface of his lower lip. Then slowly, because it hurt like hell to deny himself something he wanted so badly, Derek put his hands on Parrish’s shoulders and took a step back. Parrish released his wrists, and his head lowered, hanging forward, while he struggled to get a grip on himself.

 

Air rushed from Derek’s lungs in a jagged rhythm and he left Parrish standing there before he could ask Derek to stay behind.

 

The one thing Derek would never be able to do.

 

XXX

He was dying, he saw it in Peter’s eyes. His terror and concern for him were evident in his shattered appearance—his mouth grim, a torrent of emotions flashing through the glowing depths of his blue eyes. Derek had always believed he’d experience a moment of clarity when this time came, facing his death, but only two truths filled his mind. He was going to miss his pack—and he wished he’d told Jordan what he meant to him.

 

Searing, brilliant pain lanced through Derek and clenched his teeth as his chest tightened in pain.  He shouted at everyone to leave him behind and save Scott.

Stiles refused and his brown eyes burned with a hard, steely purpose and his face set in an expression of pure, ruthless determination.

 

“Your not going to die” Stiles shouted as he pinned Derek down with his wild-eyed gaze, demanding he listen.

 

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles muttered, placing his hands overs his wounds. “You have something a lot better than death waiting for you.”

 

Derek squeezed his eyes closed, his heart pounding, chest heaving, fighting the rolling waves of agony ripping his insides to shreds.

 

“Think about Parrish.” Stiles demanded in a harsh shout, urging him to listen to reason. “Are you willing to leave him on his own to suffer through losing a mate? Are you willing to give up the chance for a life with him?”

 

“Just Hold on, Derek,” he heard Stiles mutter through the roaring pain in his head

 

He tried to say thanks, only his lips were too numb to form the words. He struggled, fighting it, but the darkness kept pulling him deeper, as if he were falling to the bottom of a steep, dark lake. He kicked and screamed and raged against the cold, stark burn of reality that told him he was dying. Derek struggled…and seethed…and raged, but no matter how hard he fought against it, he just kept sinking deeper.

 

“DEREK” It wasn’t Stiles but it Jordan’s voice that rang out and Derek tried to push back the sickening burst of pain that threatened to consume him in a dark, smothering wave. The only thing that kept him conscious was the knowledge that Jordan was there was waiting for him—that he needed him. What was he even doing here?

 

Derek called up every ounce of power he had lingering in his body and mentally pushing at the wolf he couldn’t feel any more. Searching deeper, with everything he had, feeling as if was he turning his body inside out. Blood began trickling from his nose while a dull roar filled his head, the pressure intense, as if his skull would crack in two.

 

He smells blood, but doesn’t see what happens to Stiles. Hears Peter’s rage filled howl, at the sound of Stiles cry. He knows Stiles drops next to time, hears the heavy thud of his body.

 

Derek tries to speak, tries to move but nothing happens.

 

He can feel Jordan’s hands on him after a moment, feeling Parrish shaking him and hears Jordan broken sob. He feels his warm hand, cradling his jaw, and feels the touch of Jordan’s lips to his.

 

His wolf howls inside him and he feels alive and that’s the last thing he remembers.

 

XXX

 

Tossing restlessly atop a cool table top,  Derek struggled to pull himself back to a lucid state of consciousness. His eyes felt gritty as he forced them open, his lids heavy…weighted. He braced himself for a sickening wave of pain that lingered at the edges of his memory, but it never came. Squinting, he stared into the room, wondering where he was. It took him a moment before he realized it was the clinic.

 

“There you are,” A voice rumbled at his side. “You’ve been out for a few hours. I was starting to panic.”

 

“Danny?” he croaked.

 

“Yeah, I’m here.” A small lamp turned on, sending a warm wash of mellow gold through the room that didn’t quite reach into the dusky corners.

 

Licking his dry lips, he said, “What happened? Where’s Jordan? Stiles?” He winced at the scratchy sound of his voice, but as bad as he sounded, his body felt unusually good. No aches. No pains. Just this sluggish climb back from the depths of wherever he’d been…floating or sleeping or whatever the hell he’d been doing.

 

“Do you remember what happened with Kate?” Danny asked.

 

“I remember getting shot, feeling like I was going to die. I remember something happen to Stiles. I remember Jordan. But…it’s all a blank after that.”

 

Again, he said, “Where’s Jordan and Stiles?”

 

Instead of answering the question, Danny gave him a lopsided smile. “You have one hell of a mate you’ve got there, Derek. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

 

This time, his words grated with impatience. “Where the hell is he?”

 

Danny chuckled softly under his breath. “He’s here, and perfectly fine. There’s no need to worry. I wanted to talk to you about what happened before. Do you remember changing? Do you remember turning back into a werewolf? You took on a full wolf form.” 

 

He whipped his head to the side so quickly, he damn near gave himself whiplash. “What?”

 

“You changed completely. Evolved.” Danny said slowly.

 

Derek tested his body by tightening his abs and pulling himself into a sitting position, amazed when he didn’t experience so much as a twinge of discomfort. And suddenly, as the cobwebs cleared from his mind, he remembered

 

“It was Jordan. He was there and he needed me. My wolf felt it and it reacted.”

 

Danny gave him a small, knowing smile. “We know. Deaton explained that it was something your Mother could do at will, he suspects you’ll be able to do that now too.”

 

“Was he…upset, when he saw me?” Derek asked, flicking a quick look at Danny.

 

Danny rolled his eyes, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it. I think my ears are still ringing at the chewing out he gave us for allowing you to go off get shot, and almost get yourself killed.”

 

After a moment Danny simply said “He didn’t care that you went full Beowulf. He only cared that you were alive. Mates are funny like that.”

 

“Just don’t scare the hell out of us like that again. I think the pack lost ten years of our lives watching you almost die.” Scott drawled as he entered the room, the scent of his blood and Kira’ blood still covering him. He held out his hand and helped Derek off the operating table.

 

“Trust me, I have every intention of living a very long, very healthy life from this point on,” Derek answered.

 

And Derek meant that.

 

XXX

 

The kiss was nothing short of hard, explosive aggression, both of them going at each other as if they wanted to devour...conquer...dominate. Parrish matched him every step of the way, blowing his mind, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. Every movement, every moment, was sucking him in deeper, pulling his head under the water, until he was caught. Trapped. He couldn’t get out. Like sinking into quicksand, he just kept going under...and under.

Derek looked into Parrish’s eyes, his own slumberous now, heavy lidded.

“All mine,” he growled

“All for you,” Parrish consented easily as he moved against his hand, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as Derek pushed his fingers in deeper.

 

“I wanted you.”

 

“You’ve got me, Jordan,” he purred in his ear before biting down on it, soothing the ache with his tongue a second later. “Now what are you going to do with me?”

 

“Derek please” He begged softly when he slowed down, teasing him, his tall body pressing Parrish back against the wall as his leg moved between his, spreading them further apart. Desire coursed through him sweeping away all rational thought.

 

“Please what,?” He asked as he flexed his fingers, caressing, driving him insane with sensations as he fought to hold back.

 “Please stop? Please fuck you until you’re exhausted? Please make you come all over my fingers?”

 

Derek’s lips smoothed over his neck. “I still don’t know what you want, Parrish,” Derek teased.

“Fuck me,” Parrish pleaded,

 

Parrish hissed as Derek’s fingers suddenly pushed deeply into him. Grinding his hips down he threw his head back and bucked against Derek’s hand urging him to move faster. The shaky sound of his name on Parrish’s lips was the sweetest thing he ever heard.

 

“I love that sound you make, the way you clench around my fingers” Derek said in a guttural, nearly soundless voice, while his fingertips stroked, knowing all the pleasure lines of Parrish’s body by heart.

 

Parrish stiffened, sensations rushing over one another in a brilliant, chaotic jumble, too fast to catch or control, and he could have sworn there were real starts behind his eyes, blinding him to everything but the breathless, provocative feel of his finger thrusting in swallow movements.

 

“Look at me Parrish. Open you eyes.” He did, watching Derek watch him.

 

Derek grinned and Parrish wanted to scream in frustration when he pulled his hand away – wanted to demand he put it back and finish what he started –or else. He watched as Derek’s dark brown eyes met his and he licked his fingers, a pleasurably wicked grin on his lips as his eyes drifted shut, a low moan of pleasure rumbling in his throat.

 

Parrish began to pan tin earnest now, unable to draw enough air, everything in his body feeling heavy and hot until he burned with desire from the top of his head down to his toes.

 

Derek cupped his jaw with the damp heat of his palm ,stroking the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Love the way you taste , hot and sweet and all mine.”

 

Thrusting his fingers back into him, going deeper as he added a third. Parrish’s muscles clenched around him as if to hold Derek inside of him. Fitting his mouth over his, Derek kissed him deeper as well, harder his tongue mastering him with destructive skill.

 

"Come for me, Parrish." Derek groaned against his lips the words gritty and breathless. “ I want you to come on my hand with me touching you. I want those sharp little cries in my hand as you go over.”

 

Parrish gasped feeling disoriented , like someone who’d been spinning in a circle , going faster .. and faster. He was ragingly beautiful in his lust, the angles of his face sharpened by hunger.

 

He saw nothing but a stunning infinite darkness that only Derek was able to bring out in him that seemed to overtake his mind and everything inside him pulled together.. tighter.. and tighter..

 

“That’s it baby. Scream for me Parrish.” Until the perfect shattering moment that he crashed over the edge.

 

Parrish went wild. Breaking his mouth from Derek’s, he threw his back gasping in the violent wash of ecstasy that was churning, burning, and raging inside him.

 

When Parrish opened his eyes, Derek was looking at him with hunger in his eyes and a smug smile on his face.

 

Derek cradled his face in his hands and kissed Parrish tenderly, pressing against him. His cock was so hard he could barely see straight. Everything roiled and tumbled together, a chaos of emotion and craving and raw overwhelming need.

 

Parrish’s hands lowered to the bulge in his jeans and shoved his jeans over his hips and Derek groaned as he watched Parrish take him in his hand, gripping him so tightly that the veins in the back of his hand , thickened beneath the skin, like the swollen distended veins pulsing beneath the velvety skin of Derek’s cock.

 

Parrish touched the tip of his cock with his finger. He was already leaking. Derek growled as he rubbed the tip of his finger back and forth over him.

 

“Touch me, Parrish.” He traced the outline of veins all the way down to the base. He’d always been fascinated by the mat of hair on Derek’s body. Licking his lips, he ran his fingers through the coarse hair until he cupped him.

 

Derek arched his back. “Like that, do you?”

 

“You have to ask?” Parrish smiled even wider.

 

Derek ground his teeth as Parrish explored him with a slow, methodical hand that left him groaning in ecstasy.

 

He licked her lips as he dropped to his knees, a purring sound of pleasure vibrating in his throat as he leaned forward pressing his lips against the violent heat of Derek’s skin, moaning at the decent taste of him.

 

Derek ground his teeth as pleasure assailed him. Not just from the sensation of Parrish’s mouth on him, but from the sight of him tasting him. He loved the sight of Parrish on his knees with that sinful look in his eyes.

 

“God” Derek growled, breathless, trembling. “This is going to kill me.”

 

He placed both hands on either side of Parrish’s head and pushed past his tempting lips, sinking into the deep silk of his mouth and he stroked Derek with his tongue. Derek pushed deeper.

 

“Mhmm that’s it, harder, Like that Parrish.” His legs trembled muscles rigid and hard as his mouth worked over him, his tongue stroking Derek’s cock like he couldn’t get enough of him.

 

And Parrish couldn’t. It was too good , too hot.. He loved the possessive way Derek watched him as he pleasured him, his hands clenched his hair.

 

Everything about Derek intoxicated him. Loved the power of him throbbing against his tongue. Loved his salty-sweet taste, and the strength he tried so hard to control.

 

Derek’s eyes drifted shut for a moment, and then lifted the dark smudges of his lashes revealing a gaze that was bright with fever, glittering with lust and hunger and tender, breathing taking love.

 

And then Derek was moving, pulling Parrish sharply to his feet as both hands cupped his behind, his strong arms lifted him up high enough so that he could enter him. Parrish would have bruises on his back from the wall behind him and on his thighs and bottom because of the vice-like grip Derek’s hands had on him there.

 

Parrish couldn’t wait to have Derek inside him. He straddled Derek’s waist as best he could in this position then slid himself back until he felt Derek’s hard probing tip pressing against the part of him that was aching and throbbing most for his touch.

 

Derek lifted his hips and slid himself out and all the way back in, hitting the prostate. Parrish cried out in pleasure at the fullness of Derek inside him.

 

“Derek,” he choked, rocking himself against him. Derek gripped his hips as he met Parrish’s strokes and drove himself even deeper inside him. Parrish braced his hands against Derek’s shoulders as he ground himself against Derek in time to his rapid heartbeat.

 

Parrish couldn’t think straight as he felt Derek with every molecule of his body. His hands moved beneath Derek’s shirt, clawing at his back, scratching him as he moved up and down. His muscles tightening around Derek as they moved together and his grip on Derek’s shoulders tightened, digging his nails in as Derek began to fuck him hard, penetrating him deeply, both focused on obtaining that sweet release.

 

Parrish felt the tension build, clinging to Derek as he adjusted their position.  Crying out, he fell forward onto his chest and let his release claim him. All he could hear was his heart pounding while the scent of Derek filled his senses.

 

Derek growled at the sensation of his body grasping his. He quickened his strokes as Parrish continued to climax against his abdomen, until Derek found his own moment of pure bliss.  Parrish’s body writhing against Derek’s as he gripped his hips, pulling Parrish down against him until he was grunting his name in pure pleasure.

 

Derek let himself fall forward and they both tumbled on to the couch in a less than grace tangle of limbs. Parrish’s laughter slide through his senses, stroking them, reminding him that he was mated. And he was loved. And his mate was his greatest treasure.

He may not know what kind of creature Parrish is yet, he might never know.

 

But Derek did know that Parrish was his and Derek was Parrish’s and that was more than enough.

 

It was all that would ever matter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


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